


Experiences

by regionals



Category: Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Coming of Age, Im trying my best, Implied/Referenced Abuse, M/M, Non-Graphic Rape/Non-Con, Nonbinary Character, Trans Male Character, i mean its angsty but like... its tolerable, its not as angsty as it looks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-09
Updated: 2017-12-09
Packaged: 2019-02-12 10:09:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12956979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/regionals/pseuds/regionals
Summary: Being Transgender, Falling In Love, Being An Awful Child, And Growing Up In The Worst And Most Convoluted Way Possible: a guide by Brendon Urie.





	Experiences

**Author's Note:**

> uh. idk man.  
> i wrote this in like two days i dont fucking know where it came from all i know is i started writing and i didnt stop  
> [follow me on tumblr & yell at me if you want](creion.tumblr.com/)  
> also i know brendon said somewhere in an interview that his mom speaks pidgin but i intentionally made it actual hawaiian and also hes half polynesian in this fic fucking fight me ok
> 
> **IF THIS DOESN'T 100% MATCH YOUR EXPERIENCE WITH BEING TRANS AND YOU WANT TO LEAVE ME A SHITTY COMMENT OR A RUDE MESSAGE ON TUMBLR THEN CONSIDER: I'M SORRY BUT 1. SHIT HAPPENS 2. UR NOT THE ONLY TRANS PERSON ALIVE 3. I WRITE FOR MYSELF AND I DO WHAT I WANT**

**Experiences**

\---

_**Despite being in second person, this is NOT a reader insert. It's just how I write.** _

\---

You're four years old and one of the other snot nosed brats in your preschool class laughs at you, and says, "Kiana, those are _boy_ shoes! Are you a _boy?"_ The rest of your preschool class starts laughing at you, and you even hear one of the ladies in charge of the place mocking you and your mother.

You end up shoving those shoes into the back of your closet, glaring at them, and quietly muttering to yourself, "I'm not a _boy!"_

Your mom is mad, since she spent twenty dollars on them, but you refuse to wear them.

\---

You're five and it's your first day of the second week of kindergarten. Your teacher claps her hands twice to get everyone's attention, and she smiles sweetly, saying, "Girls on the left, boys on the right," since she's trying to get the class to be all orderly or something while she marches through the school and to the choir room to watch an informational video.

You're conflicted, to say the least. Spencer and Ryan and Jon are all going to the _right,_ and in a snap decision, you decide to just go with them. They're you're friends and in your heart, being in the boy's line was what you were supposed to do.

The rest of the class, save for your three friends, laugh at you, especially as your teacher scolds you and tells you to get into the girl's line.

\---

At the end of every school year, there's always _field day,_ and this year, one of the activities is a boys versus girls soccer game. You're six at this point, since your birthday was in April, and since it's May right now. Without thinking, you let Spencer, Ryan, Jon, and the new kid, Pete, drag you to the boy's side of the field.

The gym teacher, whose name is, and you aren't joking, _Mr. Roach,_ blows his whistle, frowns, and sticks his fat, overly tanned arm out, and points at _you,_ saying, "You ain't a boy. Get with the girls."

You don't like how he says that. You're humiliated and you're close to tears by the time you're standing next to one of the girls. She smiles at you and squeezes your hand, and introduces herself, saying it's gonna be _fine._

\---

In third grade, you don't share a class with all of your friends anymore. Spencer and Jon are in a different class, and Pete and Sarah are in a third and final class, which means you're left alone with Ryan. Ryan's nice. He's quiet and he doesn't talk very much, but he's your friend and you sit next to him every chance you get.

Recess is a different deal, of course. You, Ryan, Spencer, and Jon tend to stick together, and sometimes when the three of them are doing _boy things_ you drift towards Sarah. She usually sits at one of the picnic tables reading or drawing or just watching everyone else.

The whole _girls cant do boy things_ issue becomes a lot more obvious to you this year. Your three friends start excluding you from things, saying stuff about _cooties,_ or about how you're a _girl_ and how you shouldn't be playing in the dirt with them, and you keep feeling as if you need to prove yourself to them.

\---

"You're a girl! You can't climb the fence!" Pete has a soccer ball between his arm and his hip, and he's looking at you, daring you to climb the fence.

Spencer's giving you a look that pretty much says, _"Please don't,"_ but Ryan and Jon are also challenging you, so... you can't help it.

At this point, you're ten, almost eleven, and you're in fifth grade. You're in fifth grade and you're not about to let these asswipes tell you what you can and can't do just because you're a girl. You flip Pete, Jon, and Ryan off, waving your finger in front of all of their faces, before wedging your sneaker covered foot into a hole in the chain link fence, and you reach as high as you can, gripping the fence with your fingers as hard as you can, and you haul yourself up. You keep doing this, and at the top, you're careful to position your hands to where they won't be pressed against the sharp edges of the wire, but a shout of, _"Urie!"_ from the teacher on recess duty makes you jump, and when you fall down, the side of your hand gets caught on the wire, effectively slicing it open.

You scream because, like, _ow,_ and the teacher on duty rushes over to you, as well as your friends. You get carted off to the nurse's office, and from there you're carted off in a freaking _ambulance_ to a hospital.

You sit waiting for your mom to show up for half an hour, and when she does show up, the doctor asks her some questions. The doctor asks if your mother would rather pay an extra whatever sum of money and have the wound sutured in a way to where it would most likely not scar, or if the old fashioned route of stitches would be preferred since it's cheaper, despite the fact that you're probably going to be left with a pretty nasty scar from it.

"Give her stitches! Teach her a lesson."

\---

Later, at home, after throwing her purse angrily onto the couch and hanging her keys up on the key rack almost violently, your mother asks, _"What the hell were you trying to prove?!"_ in Hawaiian.

_"They said I couldn't do it because I'm a_ girl! _I wouldn't have fell if the fucking teacher hadn't have yelled at me!"_

You get a talking to after that, about how boys are stupid, and that you're a girl, you're _smarter_ than them all, that you should _know_ better. You're also told to stop hanging out with _boys,_ and to do things more _appropriate_ for _girls_ your age.

You end up sitting in your room crying for most of the night.

\---

In middle school, Ryan and Jon fall off the face of the earth. They end up at a different middle school, since the district boundaries had changed sometime between sixth and seventh grade. Pete winds up moving to fucking Illinois, and Sarah moves back to Michigan with her family. (This is the last time you talk to Sarah.)

In seventh grade, you're pretty much left alone with Spencer. And it's _awkward._ In seventh grade, you start going through puberty, at least more so than you had been before, as does he.

You don't know what you were expecting from puberty. You don't know why you expected to start filling out more in your shoulders, how you expected for your face to become more defined, or for your voice to drop.

It becomes obvious to you, that you aren't developing that way, when you're hanging out with Spencer one afternoon during September, throwing a baseball back and forth in his back yard. He's not really talking, but he keeps _looking_ at you kind of funny, and eventually, once you have the ball in your possession, you groan, loudly, and ask, "What the hell are you staring at?!"

His gaze _drops_ and he gestures towards his own chest. You make a face and you look down at your own chest and, _oh._ You... haven't really been paying attention to yourself. You get awkward and uncomfortable whenever it comes to thinking about or looking at your own body, and, alright, maybe it's a little embarrassing that you're just now realizing you probably need to invest in a bra.

They're just _there,_ under your t-shirt, _mocking_ you. Your chest tightens up and your breath catches in your throat, and, _oh god,_ why are you so scared all of a sudden?! You grit your teeth and wipe at one of your eyes before a tear can even begin to _think_ of falling, and before you know it, you're throwing that baseball back at Spencer as hard as you can, and he barely manages to dodge out of the way before it would've hit him in the head.

The rest of that evening is spent in the two of you pelting that baseball at each other as hard as either of you could, and you go home with a bunch of bruises.

\---

You stick with cupped bras for maybe a month before you beg your mom to buy you a sports bra. After that, you start wearing a _lot_ of sweatshirts and jackets and baggy t-shirts.

\---

On a Friday in December, still in seventh grade, you wake up to the feeling of your back and your stomach _aching,_ and everything is wet and slick _down there._ Your first instinct is _oh god I've wet the bed_ and when you yank the blankets back, you find that, no, you didn't wet the bed.

Honestly, you kind of wished that had been the case instead of what actually happens.

You yell for your mom, and she rushes into your room, looking startled and a little afraid, and when she sees what you'd been yelling at, she sighs a sigh of relief, saying, _"I thought something was wrong."_

_"Something_ is _wrong! I'm bleeding!"_

Your mom does the mom thing and takes care of you, and lets you borrow a _pad,_ before making you breakfast and sitting down with you in the living room and explaining how _periods_ work, and, _congratulations! You're a woman!_

\---

You stay home from school on Friday, and on Monday when you go back, it's not _as_ bad, but you do sit with your head down in your homeroom class, and Spencer totally nudges you and asks you if you're alright. You rarely miss school unless you have to.

You just tell him that you're kind of _sick_ and he just shrugs you off, figuring that you'll be fine. You're glad that he's not super goddamn nosy.

\---

To be quite fucking frank, eighth grade _sucks ass._ You spend the summer in Hawaii with your grandparents, and they have a _computer._ They have a computer and you use it almost obsessively. You make an account on some blogging website, after hearing about it on Facebook, and after filling out everything necessary--your username and your description--you follow a bunch of random blogs.

Most of them have to do with anime, which is something that you as a thirteen year old thoroughly enjoy, and a smaller portion of them are _social justice_ blogs, _gay rights activism_ blogs, and there's even a few _transgender awareness_ blogs.

You're a cool person and despite being bitter and angry most of the time, you do have a lot of love in your heart for everyone, and you follow those blogs because you're trying to prove to yourself that you're _cool_ and _hip_ and that you're _with the times._ (That's how future you would say it, at least, because future you is kind of a nerd.)

It's nearing the end of your time at your grandparents, and you see a post. It's a joke post, some sort of meme, but the title starts off with: _signs that you may be transgender._ Usually you just scroll past these posts because you kind of don't care that much, but this time you say _fuck it_ and you read it.

 

**signs that you may be transgender (ftm)** **:**

\- you have an extensive collection of jackets and sweatshirts and t-shirts that are way too big

\- short haircuts are _'practical'_ (or, well, that's what u tell ur family)

\- not understanding why ur teachers always got mad at u for lining up with the boys

\- having to explain to hairdressers that no i dont want a goddamn pixie cut just shave my head

\- reading fanfiction from a young age and identifying with the gay men and wishing u were a man then later fearing that u were fetishizing gay men when in reality u were just closeted all along

 

You feel like god is mocking you or something, because you strongly relate to every single fucking point on this post, and you end up clearing the browser history, logging out of Tumblr, and saying _fuck it--_ you can just use your phone. You don't need the accessibility of a computer.

\---

Spencer makes an account on Tumblr while you're at his house one day, and he asks you for your URL. You give it to him, of course. You don't say it out loud, but you show him your phone, and he does quirk an eyebrow when he reads _pidginprince,_ but he doesn't question it, figuring it's some inside joke in your family or something. (This is what he tells you when you ask him about it sometime after high school.)

He also doesn't question your description, which is rather simple:

_k | 13 | he/him_

\---

Spencer does question your Tumblr description when the 'k' changes to 'brendon.' He notices it a few weeks after you change it, and while the two of you are sitting at the back of the field eating your cold lunches, he asks, "Why'd you change the 'k' in your description to 'Brendon?' Who's Brendon?"

You're quiet for a few minutes, not making eye contact and just staring down at your tupperware container of steamed rice and curry, leftover from last night. "Me. I'm Brendon."

He laughs. "That's such a butch name." You don't think he's making fun of you, at least not right now. "Are you trans?" Okay, he's not making fun of you. He's serious, and he's looking at you now with an expression that's far more serious than you were expecting out of him. "You don't have to answer, but you reblog some questionable stuff." He shrugs, and takes a pretty big bite of his sandwich.

"To answer that... Yes." You shrug as well now, and you let your gaze dart elsewhere as you stuff a bite of rice mixed with curry into your mouth. He doesn't say anything, so you elaborate a little bit. "I saw the name Brendon on some list somewhere and I really liked it, so I was like, 'That's my new name.'"

"I mean... It kind of suits you. Are you gonna get your hair cut?"

"I've been barking up that tree since I was ten, Spence. If Ma was gonna let me cut it all off, she would've let me by now."

\---

Spencer's mom is totally nice. She's a hairdresser and has her own salon and everything, and one afternoon while you're at Spencer's house, he grabs you by the arm and leads you out of the house and to the guest house, which is what his mother uses as a salon, saying, "I've got a surprise for you."

(His parents aren't rich or anything, but they managed to score a pretty good deal on a fairly large house with a very, _very_ tiny guest house.)

Once you're in the salon, his mother looks up from her desk and smiles at you, saying, "Spencer said your mother wouldn't let you cut your hair."

Spencer chooses that moment to _dip._ He backs out of the room and through the window in the door you can see him going back into the house, and, god, you hate when he puts you in awkward situations. Mentally, you have both middle fingers up at him.

"Uh. Yeah. She acts like it's the family hair or whatever." You shrug, and since it's a little stuffy in this room, you take your jacket off and hang it on one of the coat racks.

"I'll cut it for you. Think of it as an early birthday present."

You know you're probably going to get your ass beat (and you don't even know if you're joking or not) but you act casual--you shrug, and say, "Alright," and when she asks you what you want, you pull up a few pictures of a few guys from YouTube. (Basically, you get a vaguely emo _boy_ haircut, and, Jesus, you didn't realize how much hair you had until it's gone.)

You look in the mirror, and you _barely_ manage to hold back tears once your hair is gone. You try to be quick about thanking Spencer's mom, and getting out of the salon, with your jacket, and back into the house. Spencer's sitting in the dining room (which is, really, just the same room as the kitchen, but it's split in half by counter space) eating from a bag of potato chips, and when he sees you, he grins.

You maybe participate in some totally not gay hugging with your best friend, and you totally do _not_ cry on him, because, _wow,_ you feel really good about yourself.

\---

Your mom is _not_ pleased with you, to say the least. She yells at you for an hour, at least, spouting off shit about lesbians and how people are going to think you're a boy now, and it takes everything in you not to shout, _"I_ am _a boy!"_ back at her.

It's one of those nights that you spend in your room listening to music and crying until you're too exhausted to continue.

\---

You lose your virginity the summer between eighth and ninth grade. You're not _dating_ Spencer, you never have and you never will--you'll just state that now--but the two of you were _alone._ His parents were out grocery shopping, and since the two of you have been friends for, literally, nine years, they didn't imagine either of you would get up to anything.

And normally, neither of you would, but somehow a conversation took a turn, and suddenly the two of you were kissing, _touching_ each other and _exploring,_ and then the next thing you know, you're _naked_ and staring up at the ceiling in his bedroom under his stupid comfortable blanket, with him next to you, saying, "So, uh... That was a thing."

"That was... definitely a thing," you mumble back to him.

"Did you... like it...?"

At fourteen, you've already had a few years of _very_ frequent masturbating under your belt, and you can honestly say, "I mean... I came, so it can't be that bad." You're kinda joking around. "We're not together or anything, are we?"

"Do you wanna be?" He looks at you and raises an eyebrow.

You manage to maintain eye contact with him for _maybe_ ten seconds before you start laughing. "God, no. I mean, that was fun and all, but _no._ If we started dating, Hell would freeze over."

He's laughing too, and he agrees.

\---

Ninth grade means the first year of high school. You're at a big ass high school, and being at this big ass high school means that the holy (or unholy) trinity is reunited once again. (You'd include Jon, but he moved to fucking Henderson for some reason, so, as far as you're concerned, he can go fuck himself. Okay, not really. You love Jon like a brother, but he's not going to the same school as you, alright?) (This is when you lose contact with him.)

Ryan knows you're trans. You're pretty sure Spencer told him, and then you _actually_ came out to him yourself a few weeks before school started, since you didn't want it to be awkward when the three of you started hanging out again. When you see him at school, you pretty much barrel into him and knock him over with a hug, because, _hey,_ he was your best friend in elementary school, and you've missed him and his dorky self.

He hugs you back, and smiles at you, saying, "Hey, Brendon," and, _wow,_ you really like people using your new name. Spencer's sure to call you Brendon every chance he gets, without it being awkward, and Ryan's been acting like your old name never even existed in the first place.

\---

On Halloween, you, Ryan, and Spencer go trick or treating. You're just wearing skeleton makeup, because it was easy, Ryan's dressed as a fucking Christmas tree, and Spencer's dressed as a character from some shitty web comic that you could never get into.

Spencer ducks out early, saying he's tired, which leaves you and Ryan alone, walking around the neighborhood and still trick or treating.

It's only a little awkward, mostly since you haven't really had a chance to talk to him without Spencer being within the general vicinity. He's way taller than you now than he was when either of you were ten. He's also got a fluffy head of brown hair instead of frosted tips, which, for some reason, made a very brief comeback in, like, 2008, which is when either of you were in fifth grade. He's also... kinda _cute_ now. In fifth grade, the concept of you having a crush on Ryan Ross in any capacity was enough to make you throw up, but now, in ninth grade... you kind of fuck with it.

You haven't really had a crush on anyone before. You had a brief period where you thought you may have had a crush on Spencer, but that just turned out to be a giant ball of _no fucking thanks_ because he's your best friend who you sometimes have sex with.

The point is, though, the two of you hit a stretch of sidewalk with no houses (or at least any with lights on), and he puts his arm around your shoulder. It's a little weird, you'll admit, but you do find yourself leaning into him a bit, and wrapping your own arm around his waist. Your cheeks are burning red, you know that, and when you catch a glimpse of him, his cheeks are pretty goddamn red as well.

\---

You start hanging out with Ryan more and more. Sometimes he comes over to your house, and, thankfully, your mother _loves_ him. _Rarely,_ you go to his house. Most times, though, the two of you end up at Spencer's house, even if Spencer isn't home. Ryan's parents are awful and you can't stand them, and your mother hovers a lot, refusing to let the two of you be alone, or to have a door closed, whereas Spencer's parents are just so fucking _lenient._

It's the week after Thanksgiving, Spencer's over at someone else's house, and you and Ryan have your asses parked on the couch in Spencer's basement, watching Dexter on your profile on Spencer's Netflix account. The lights are dimmed, mostly so that the focus is on the TV, or at least yours is. You find that Ryan's isn't when you feel a hand on your thigh.

Your eyebrows shoot up as soon as you feel his hand there, and you glance at it. You don't pay much attention, though, because Dexter's killing someone, and you kind of have a huge hard on for Michael C. Hall. When Ryan's hand starts moving _up_ your thigh, though, you look at his face, and ask, "What are you doing?"

He shrugs, mumbles, "Nothing," and doesn't move his hand away.

Immediately, you're comparing his coming onto you to how Spencer usually comes onto you. Spencer's more blunt about it--he just asks you if you wanna _fuck,_ and then from there, the two of you start making out and doing whatever. Ryan's trying to be subtle about it, though. He's touching your thigh and inching his hand _up,_ and each time you pick his hand up and place it back at your knee, he continues moving it up.

You honestly don't really _care_ that he's coming onto you. You're just, like, really invested in Dexter right now, and you kind of feel like it'd be a dick move to let him fuck you in Spencer's basement, but you also don't have any intention of mentioning the fact that you've slept with Spencer to Ryan. You don't want him to think less of you or something dumb like that.

You, eventually, let things escalate. It's... nothing glamorous, honestly. He tries getting you to take your shirt off, but you tell him no, saying you aren't comfortable doing that. You trust him and all, but you're awkward when it comes to taking your shirt off. Spencer somehow handles it right, so you only let _him_ ever see you completely naked.

The point is, though, you let him fuck you. It's messy and honestly not that great, but you still _get off,_ as does he. The two of you don't really talk about it, at least not that night.

\---

Ryan goes home the next morning, and his mom drives you home as well. You're back at Spencer's house a week later, without Ryan, because you kind of just want to _talk_ to him. "I had sex with Ryan," you blurt about five minutes into either of you playing Animal Crossing: New Leaf. (You're kind of obsessed with the game, and Spencer got himself a copy because you wanted him to help you gather flowers and to also help you unlock upgrades for the train station.)

"Um. Okay...? Why are you telling me?"

"You're my only other friend, and I dunno who else to go to about it."

"It was consensual and all that, right?"

"Well, _yeah,_ but I dunno. It was weird. We didn't talk about it, and school was kinda awkward this week."

"Do you like him?"

"Honestly...? I kinda do. I just... I dunno how to go about asking him to be my boyfriend, or something like that. He just seemed so confident and sure of himself when we did the thing, like he'd done it a million times before, and I mean, I'm not _inexperienced,_ I guess, since we do it too sometimes, but... I just... I dunno."

"I could talk to him, if you want...?"

"Eh. Don't do that." You shake your head, and proceed to _bap_ Spencer's character in Animal Crossing in the head with a net. He calls you a dick. "I'm just... kinda scared, too. He knows I'm trans and doesn't misgender me or anything, but that doesn't mean he's a good boyfriend..."

"Maybe you should just go for it. We're young, man."

You make a face, and just change the subject back to the game.

\---

You wind up having a conversation with Ryan that ends in the two of you making out somewhere in Spencer's basement after agreeing that either of you were... boyfriends.

\---

You thought having a boyfriend just meant being cute together, because you're fucking _fourteen,_ but apparently not. Future Brendon has a lot of pent up feelings about Ryan Ross, and rightfully so, but Present Brendon is really concerned after having been woken up at two in the morning from a few phone calls and a bunch of text messages.

Before responding to anything, you read the texts. The first one is him asking if you're awake, and after not responding, he just starts talking. His typing gets worse and worse as the messages go on, and, alright, you're pretty fucking worried about him, so you press the call button on your conversation with him, and you wind up talking to him for a few hours.

He makes you stay on the phone with him until he falls asleep, saying something about how he doesn't want to feel so _alone,_ and you feel bad for him, so you do it.

Your only mistake was assuming that this would be a one time thing. He starts doing this every single fucking night almost, and on the week of Christmas, you tell him that it's getting old and that you _need_ to sleep at night, and he... calls you abusive, and neglectful, and accuses you of not caring about him, and _whoa, okay,_ where'd _that_ come from?

It hurts your feelings and after you have a good cry about it, you pretty much make yourself available 24/7. You don't want to fucking _abuse_ him.

\---

You barely get any C's on your finals, and, like, one B. Your mom goes off on you, and asks you why you haven't been pulling better grades like you used to, and you just say that you're _tired._ You are tired. You just don't explain that it's because you stay awake until four or five every night trying to make sure Ryan doesn't lose his fucking shit.

Either way, you still fail two classes that semester.

\---

February is awful.

You go to a party that someone in the grade above you invited you to. You've been to a few parties before, and this one is... just about the same as the others, honestly. There's alcohol and loud music and... yeah.

You have a terrible time controlling yourself, meaning you drink way too much, and when some senior is coming onto you, talking about how cute you are, how _tight_ you must be, you really can't do anything to fend him off.

\---

As usual, you're in Spencer's basement, and Spencer's playing mediator, sort of. You told him about what happened at the party, and he helps you tell Ryan about it. Ryan doesn't even seem to fucking _care._ You're sitting there, crying and trying not to have a panic attack, and he's getting onto you for _not going to the police,_ and for _telling Spencer first._

Spencer yells at him and calls him an asshole, and you yell at him too, and, man... he fucking snaps. He doesn't care that you were drunk. He doesn't care that an eighteen year old took advantage of you _while drunk._ He cares that someone else was _with you_ in a way that only _he_ was supposed to be with you. He accuses you of being a _cheater,_ and says some bullshit about you having to earn his trust back.

The shouting match goes on for awhile, honestly, but Spencer's dad ends up having to come downstairs and break it up. He pretty much screams at Ryan his goddamn self, and says that if he _ever_ treats you or another one of his children this way again, then he isn't welcome in his household. He also drives Ryan home, leaving you to lose your goddamn mind while Spencer pretty much holds you.

Being fourteen sucks.

\---

You don't tell your mom about the party. You're afraid that you're going to get in trouble for drinking, or, y'know, having sex, or just being at a party in general. You don't tell her, and that's probably why she's confused as hell, not to mention _livid_ when you fail all but two of your classes that semester.

The summer between ninth grade, and ninth grade at an alternative school is spent mostly in Spencer's basement. You and Ryan manage to make up in June, and continue... being a thing. Future Brendon thinks it's dumb you forgave him, but Present Brendon just smiles like an idiot whenever he walks into a room, and you always feel this warm feeling spread across your body whenever he bends down and kisses your forehead or your lips or something like that.

\---

The alternative school shit pans out for maybe three months. It's long enough for you to make a few more friends besides Spencer and Ryan, though.

Out of the three friends you make, Josh is your favorite. He asks you what your pronouns are the second you meet him, and it touches you. You tell him, and you tell him your chosen name, and he's totally cool about it. You sit with him at lunch every day, since he doesn't really have any friends either. Josh is also the person who buys you your first chest binder, saying something about how he's bought a few for his own boyfriend, and how it's really not a big deal.

Joe is a close second in terms of how much you like your few new friends. He's the person who lets you get high for the first time. He lets you come over and hang out in his tiny little trailer, one that he rents himself since he's twenty and returning to high school while also working full time, and you just... get high. (Joe doesn't take advantage of you or anything, though. He makes sure you have plenty of snacks and that you aren't having a bad trip whenever you're at his place.)

You also reconnect with Pete this year. He doesn't go to the alternative school, but he moves back to Vegas, and the two of you hit it off, just like you had in kindergarten. He's also totally cool about the trans thing, and tells you that he's bi.

\---

December sucks. December is apparently the time of year where you start getting super _sad,_ and this year it's especially awful.

Ryan breaks up with you. For good. It's not some dumb little fight like before--it's--it's _for good,_ and once _he's_ out of your life, you don't fucking know how to deal with it. You loved him, alright? You loved him and you miss him so much but he said that you were _not_ to ever speak to him again.

He breaks up with you over text like a fucking asshole, and you have a panic attack bad enough that you're in the bathroom throwing up for like half an hour. Your mom lets you stay home from school.

\---

A few weeks after Ryan breaks up with you...

Well, you're fifteen. You're fifteen and you're bad at _controlling_ yourself, or handling things in a mature way, because, hey, _you're a child._ You just feel so fucking _awful_ that you down a bottle of your mother's pain medications, ones she takes since she has (mostly) untreated sciatica.

You don't really remember a lot out of the next few months, other than you cried a lot and you didn't talk to anyone aside from your mom. (Needless to say, your dad's out of the picture, and has been since you were, like, two.)

\---

By the time you're ready to go back to school, you're sixteen, and you sit through it for maybe a week before somehow miraculously convincing your mom to let you drop out and get a GED. You still haven't talked to anyone you know, aside from assuring Spencer and Josh and Pete that you're still alive, and that you aren't dead. You leave out the part about _wanting_ to be dead, though.

\---

You get your GED sometime in June, and you take a driver's education course that summer. Your mom helps you to learn how to drive, and by the time it's December again, you have your license and you're working an entry level position at some call center after having been referred by someone you knew.

\---

On one of your weekends off, you wind up in Spencer's basement, just like old times. It's January now, and as soon as he sees you, he's giving you a bone crushing hug. You haven't seen him in... probably over a year now. Jesus. You feel awful about it and you cry a little bit but he just hugs you and tells you that you're fine.

You end up having sex with Spencer. It's more or less just an affection sort of thing, you think, because you haven't seen him in forever, you _missed_ him, he missed _you,_ and you don't think that sex always has to be romantic anyways.

You open the window in his bedroom and you smoke a cigarette after sleeping with him. Something about this scene just feels so _comforting_ to you. You don't feel self conscious like you would whenever you had sex with Ryan, or the one time you and Josh fucked. (You forgot to mention that, but, yeah, it's a thing. He said he was in an open relationship, and you held him to his word.) (It wasn't bad, but it was definitely a one time thing.)

You're only wearing a pair of briefs, not even worrying about your chest as you smoke your cigarette, and the fingers of your hand that's not holding a cigarette are running through Spencer's hair, since he's laying with his head in your lap. You aren't happy right now, but all the turmoil inside of you seems to be at least a _little_ at ease.

"Why'd you disappear?" he asks, looking up at you.

"I just did." You shrug. "I tried killing myself last year, because shit was too much." You stub your cigarette out in the ash tray that's in his room. (You brought an ash tray with you. You're like that.) "I just... wasn't feeling it. I wasn't in the mood to talk to anyone, so I dropped out, got a GED, and I got my license a few months ago. I've missed you, man."

\---

You come out to your mom a few days after you turn seventeen. You have enough money put away from your job to where you _should_ be fine if things go south, and you're really tired of her calling you by your birth name.

She handles it a lot better than you thought she would. You don't really know where to go after explaining everything to her, but she does promise to try calling you Brendon, and to try to treat you like a _man_ rather than a _girl._

\---

Ryan texts you a month after you turn seventeen.

He asks you if you're busy.

You say that you aren't.

He says that he misses you.

You say that you miss him too.

He says that he's lonely, that his girlfriend broke up with him.

You say that you're also lonely, and that life's been pretty shit since you last spoke to him.

You spend the next month pretty much fucking your brains out before he pretty much tells you to get lost after having picked a fight over something stupid.

You're torn up about it but not as much as you would've been a few years ago.

\---

You start hanging out with Josh a _lot_ that summer. He's twenty by now, and he's... pretty alright. He's a good friend. Whenever either of you aren't working, the two of you like to drive to Los Angeles and fuck around in the _big city,_ just exploring and contemplating your futures before driving back home.

You feel like you grow a lot as a person that summer. You travel a little bit, you get out of your house and out of _Vegas,_ and it's so _refreshing,_ not to mention the fact that you've got a cool ass friend to hang out with while you're at it.

\---

Josh moves into an apartment with his boyfriend in Henderson in September, so the random day trips to LA quit happening as often, and since gas is ridiculous, you quit being able to talk to him as much, at least in person. It sucks, but it's life.

If you're honest, aside from the occasional one month fling with Ryan that always ends with you being absolutely _gutted_ and miserable, the next year and a half of your life goes by pretty smoothly. You work and continue saving money, occasionally blowing a tiny bit of it if you've had a _day_ and you need to treat yourself. You... kind of like it.

You still sleep with Spencer once in awhile, and, honestly, it's something you normally don't even think is worth mentioning. It's just a thing the two of you do. It's been that way for, like, five years, which is only a _little_ wild to you.

_Point is,_ you're nineteen and you've just gotten a promotion at your job and things are looking pretty great when Spencer adds you to a group conversation on Kik with some kid, then leaves. You haven't even talked to him in like a month, but he just... _does this._

 

**bread:** what

**dj:** i believe that this is my fault

**dj:** i told him i wanted more friends and i was kind of figuring he'd introduce me to someone in person, not on kik haha

**bread:** oh

**bread:** i havent talked to him in like a month so i was kinda wondering what the hell was up lol

**dj:** very understandable

**bread:** hi i guess

**dj:** hello

 

You look at this _dj_ kid's profile. Their icon is a picture of a... pretty cute guy, if you're honest, but other than that, and other than the username _DJJAZZYWEEKES,_ there's pretty much no information about them. You'd question Spencer about it, but you're, like, in the middle of making dinner for you and your mom, so you don't have time.

\---

After you eat dinner, and once you get leftovers put away, you go to your room, and you pull your phone out to send a message to the DJ kid. Spencer apparently wants the two of you to be friends, and you've learned to trust his judgment. (If you were speaking to him about this, you would've said, " _Never doubt Daddy,"_ mostly since he hates it when you call him that, and since it makes you laugh.)

 

**bread:** we should introduce ourselves properly. name & pronouns and all that.

**dj:** dallon & he or they preferably they

**bread:** u can call me brendon, or bread. um. he/they for me. like either or but some d ays im pretty adamant on they/them. most times he/him is ok

**dj:** gotchu

**dj:** are we both gay (attracted to masculine people)

**bread:** i'm pan

**dj:** cool

 

This, right here, is how you meet Dallon, obviously. They're kind of a dork, but you like their typing style, honestly.

\---

A few weeks after introducing yourselves, and a few casual and short conversations later, Dallon asks you for your phone number. You give it to them, and while you're sitting on your patio smoking a cigarette and watching something on your phone, they call you, unsurprisingly.

You're... honestly expecting what most people would call a _girl_ voice, and you're a little embarrassed that you assumed Dallon was DFAB. _"I've had a fucking day,"_ is what they say as soon as you accept the call.

You snort. "Uh, yeah. Me too. Hello."

_"Oh, man. I... Kind of assumed you were cis."_

"Fuck that. I tried it for a few years and it sucked." You flick ashes into your ash tray. "I mean, I kind of assumed you were DFAB, so imagine my surprise when Morgan-goddamn-Freeman answers the phone."

Dallon laughs and, oh god, they have a really cute laugh. You smile a little bit to yourself. _"Can I vent?"_

"Feel free, dude. Or... Is dude okay to call you? I call everyone dude."

_"It's fine, man. I call everyone 'man,' unless they tell me otherwise, honestly. Anyways, I don't have much to vent about, other than one of my trans guy friends saying something along the lines of, 'But you're nonbinary, so I don't know if you'd get the whole dysphoria thing.' Like, fuck off,_ Tyler, _I get the dysphoria thing. A_ lot. _Like, I have dysphoria just as bad as any binary trans person. Me being nonbinary doesn't somehow lessen that."_

"I mean, as a mostly binary trans person, I support you. You should probably talk to your trans friend about that. It sounded kind of rude to me, if I'm honest." You shrug even though they can't see you. "I've had a few other trans people ask why I don't just use he and him pronouns for myself instead of he and they, and it's like... Probably because I'm nonbinary...? I mean, I'm _very_ masculine identifying, but I'm not... Y'know. Binary."

_"I totally get that. Honestly, like... I'm_ super _dysphoric today."_

"Shit, me too." You laugh a bit and take a drag of your cigarette. "My mom's been misgendering me all damn day. I mean, she tries, I guess, but I'm dysphoric as fuck today so I keep noticing it more."

_"Y'know--I bet this is why Spencer introduced us. We have similar issues."_

"Probably. He does shit like that."

\---

You don't even know why you keep talking to Dallon. It's as if Spencer just _knew_ you'd take a liking to them, or some bullshit like that. He's like a wizard. Or something. You have no fucking idea. Anyways...

Sometimes you have days where you put on a full face of makeup, and sometimes you take pictures of yourself, and _sometimes_ you send those pictures to cute nonbinary buddies that you've been talking to on Kik.

And _sometimes_ those cute nonbinary buddies respond and compliment you.

 

**dj:** you are a very pretty boy wow

 

You'd be lying if you said you didn't blush a little bit at the compliment.

 

**dj:** [image]

**dj:** that's my look for today haha

**bread:** you also look very nice

**bread:** is saying that you also look pretty too feminine of a compliment?

**dj:** no. honestly as long as you dont give me super masculine compliments i wont fight lol

**bread:** well you look very pretty :) rly like the colors going on ;p

 

Oh, _god,_ why are you flirting with him?! You want to bash your face against a pavement.

\---

You don't have a lot of boundaries with your friends. You figure this is probably because you fuck your best friend on a regular basis. The point is, you send Dallon a picture where you're wearing a button up that's unbuttoned, and of course, you're sure to cover up your nipples with heart emojis. You send it because you feel good about yourself, and you feel like you look _masculine._

 

**bread:** i put heart emojis over my nips but i feel masculine

**bread:** was that too personal to send idk i just wanted you to know

**dj:** *clap clap clap*

**dj:** no it wasnt too personal. u look p hot tbh :P

**dj:** honestly do u think if we hugged hard enough we could just like

**dj:** swap organs or something

**bread:** idk man wanna test it

**dj:** i have a license boy dont test me

**bread:** wait how old are you

**dj:** 17

**bread:** fuc

**dj:** ur not like 13 are you

**bread:** no im 19

**bread:** i thought you were in your 20s or something yikes

**dj:** unfortunately i am but a senior in high school

**bread:** miss me with that shit i dropped out lol

 

Only people you actually went to school with know you dropped out, and so does your supervisor at work. Other than them, though, you don't really talk about it. You don't know why you're deciding to talk to Dallon about it.

 

**dj:** can i ask why

**bread:** a lot of stuff happened and i got held back a few times and just... fuck that, man. i got a ged when i was 16 then ended up getting a nice job like six months later lol

**dj:** fair enough

**dj:** i work too hard for my grades or i probably would've dropped out by now haha

\---

You're in Spencer's basement bathroom, and you're fresh out of the shower. You've been feeling yourself lately, so you take a mirror selfie, and since Dallon compliments you, you send them a message, asking if it'd be weird if you were to send them a topless picture of yourself.

 

**bread:** i'd just send the picture to spencer but he's literally had his tongue on my asshole so he'd probably just be like "cool i like ur tits" & u usually have more tasteful compliments than that lol

**dj:** i mean i dont care its up to you

**bread:** [image]

**bread:** im not on testosterone (obviously) so i look very girly but... im feelin it

**dj:** FALSE you look very masculine!!! >:(

**dj:** big nut!!!!

**dj:** except not nut because thats KINDA weird but you are very masculine!!!

**bread:** ahhh ur sweet :')

 

You're smiling a little bit when you step out of the bathroom, wearing a t-shirt you stole from Spencer and briefs. Spencer also just so happens to be passing by, and he asks, "What's got you all giddy? You talkin' to Ryan again?"

You snort. "Fuck no. I was talking to that Dallon kid."

"Oh? You've actually been talking to them?" Spencer wiggles his eyebrows and he follows you as you lead the way up the stairs and into his kitchen. You wave at his mom, who you catch sight of in the living room. She smiles and waves back before going about her business.

As you're going through his fridge and setting out things to make yourself a sandwich, you answer him. "Yeah. I sent them a picture because they always compliment me in this, like, really _pure_ way. I mean, don't get me wrong, you're pretty good at complimenting me, but they don't get sexual with it, and I kinda like that."

"Oh _shit._ You've been flirting with them, haven't you?" Spencer scoffs, playfully.

"I can't help it. They're so nice and I don't know if it's just because I'm used to how much of a dick Ryan always was, or what, but I keep flirting back."

"They could be flirting with you too, y'know, and they're pretty much our age, so it wouldn't be the end of the world if you _did_ flirt with them."

You grunt and wave Spencer off, cheeks tinging red.

\---

Getting promoted at your job means you _consistently_ get weekends off, and you _love it._ Well, you love it until you're in your room crying at eight in the morning on a Saturday. Sometimes you need to have a good cry, you'll admit that, but, man, you're just so _sad_ today. You woke up at four, since that's when you're used to waking up, and already you feel awful.

You know _why_ you feel awful. It's February and it's been five years since the _thing_ happened at that one party when you were fourteen, plus you're still reeling from residual 'anniversary feelings' from December, which is when Ryan broke up with you for the first time. On top of that, you're dysphoric as hell, and you've only been awake for four and a half hours.

You kind of want to drive over to Spencer's house and to just crawl into bed with him, since, hey, it's always cathartic for there to be a warm body nearby, but you don't want to leave your room. You're under a bunch of blankets, and you're _warm,_ aside from your hands, which are cold as fuck.

Okay, so, maybe you're having a panic attack. Maybe you're having a panic attack and by the forces of nature, _somehow,_ that _Dallon_ kid just decides to conveniently call your phone.

You answer with your most casual and least 'I'm crying right now' sounding, "Hello?"

They still ask if they woke you up.

"Um, no. I'm actually crying right now."

_"Oh. Um. Do you... want me to hang up...?"_

You think about that seriously for a few minutes, before deciding, "No. I honestly don't. Unless you're busy, then feel free to hang up. I just... wouldn't mind talking to somebody."

_"Okay. Can I ask what's wrong?"_ They sound... _very_ concerned. Wow. You also really like Dallon's voice.

"I'm just sad. I mean, there's more to it, a lot more to it, but I'm just sad and dysphoric as hell." You sniffle and you reach from under your blanket to grab a tissue from your side table so you can wipe your nose with it.

_"Do you need some validation?"_ Their voice has taken on some sort of... goofy tone, you don't know how to describe it, but when you say that, yeah, you kind of do, they say, _"Alright, Pick a card."_

"What? I'm not even with you."

_"Just pick a card, Brendon."_

"Alright." You sniffle again, and you allow yourself to cough. "I picked a card."

" _Mhm_." They drawl that out, and you can pretty much hear the nodding. _"I see...You picked the ace of diamonds. A very interesting choice for a very interesting young man."_ Okay, that makes you smile, and maybe you aren't crying as bad already. _"The ace of diamonds validation for the day is... You're valid. You're good and pure, and you deserve the best. You're the manliest man. I respect you and I appreciate you."_

You start laughing a little bit, because, wow, they're really cute. "Bro, that was so _cute_ and _pure._ Fuck."

_"Did it help?"_

"More than you think, yeah."

_"Well, good. I'm always here to validate you, man."_

\---

You're out to lunch with Spencer, paying for his meal since he's broke and in college. He's talking about something, and you're half listening, mostly since you're smiling down at your phone like a dumb ass. He calls you out. "Quit talking to Dallon and pay attention to my needy ass."

You look up at him and apologize. "I sent them a picture this morning and they just responded." It's the first week of March by now. You've been talking to Dallon a _lot_ lately.

"What'd they say?" He leans forward, as if to somehow look at your phone. You scroll up a little bit in your conversation with Dallon, then hand your phone to Spencer so he can see.

 

**bread:** [image]

**bread:** pretend i don't have tiddies

**dj:** :ok_hand:

**bread:** it's kik, not discord.

**dj:** fuck. u right.

**dj:** you look bomb

**dj:** i really like how ur shirt kinda jus... like idk you look really BROAD and MASCULINE and since today is a day where i feel more MASCULINE i can safely say i am GAY for YOU

 

Spencer raises his eyebrows at you and bluntly just says, "If they _don't_ have a crush on you, I'll be shocked," before continuing to read the conversation.

 

**bread:** lol. good. it's my goal to make all the little nonbinaries gay for me ;)

**dj:** ur succeeding!

**bread:** send me a selfie i miss ur face

**dj:** [image]

**bread:** wow *clapclapclap*

 

Okay, so, _maybe_ you were smiling down at your phone because they sent you a picture of themselves, and _maybe_ you have to reach across the table and steal your phone back from Spencer since he's teasing you now.

\---

You meet Dallon in person a few days before your birthday. You're freaking out and pretty much losing your mind, and they're more than happy to literally drive to your house, _pick you up,_ and take you to go get McDonald's. (You make fifteen an hour, so Dallon rules that you should pay.)

You're still sniffling a little bit and wiping at your eyes once in awhile by the time you have a milkshake and a Big Mac in your lap. You haven't really even looked at Dallon, mostly since you've spent most of the car ride with your face in your hands, aside from when you gave them your wallet to pay for the food.

The two of you are sitting in a parking lot, and you're sipping at the milkshake as they're asking, "Are you alright...? Like, do I need to beat someone up...?"

"Yeah. Beat my ex boyfriend up." You literally spout off Ryan's address and his phone number. "I'm such a fucking idiot."

"I'm not actually going to beat him up, because I'm... very delicate and would end up crying, but, uh... Why are you an idiot?"

"I just..." You take your glasses off, and stick them in your pocket, because you kept getting tears in them, and, like, fuck that. "I'm stupid because we were first together five, almost six years ago, and that lasted for like a year before he broke up with me, and _since then,_ every two to four months or so he starts talking to me again, convinces me to get back together with him, then a month later he breaks up with me in the _worst way,_ and I'm getting tired of it. I don't know why I even keep going back! He's literally awful but I have so much _love_ in my heart for that stupid boy. Anyways, _last night_ fucking sucked." You cram a french fry in your mouth, and you wait for Dallon to ask you how last night sucked before you continue.

"For context, he hits me up because he gets lonely, and it's always after he's broken up with someone, and it fucks with me really bad. That's part of why I haven't really spoken to you for the past month or so. He just--we had a _fight_ last night and it was really fucking bad. I'm a small guy, right?" You look at Dallon fully, making eye contact, and, honestly, _fuck_ Ryan. Dallon's gorgeous.

"You're... pretty small, yeah," they agree with a nod and a tiny frown.

"I'm a small guy. Ryan's about your height, maybe a little shorter, and he's a little muscular. He got all up in my face, yelling and screaming and I couldn't do anything about it because Spencer's parents weren't home and Spencer himself was off somewhere, so, y'know--I'm on Spencer's fucking patio, with some dude that's like pretty much a foot taller than me yelling and screaming and getting in my face, and _then_ he _literally_ pries my phone _out of my hands."_

"Oh, that's _so_ not cool."

"No shit. He fucking pried my phone out of my hands even though I was literally, like, _crying_ and begging him not to do anything, but oh no, he didn't listen. He _humiliated_ me. He sent messages to almost everyone I know, like really rude messages, and ruined a bunch of my friendships, and I've been freaking out about it. Fuck, he even messaged Spencer."

"Is Spence cool about it, or...?"

"Of course he is. The man's a saint." You've started crying again, and Dallon reaches over to put their hand on your shoulder, squeezing gently. "I hate this so much. I hate him, too. He makes me feel so small and inferior, and it's, like... I don't know what to do."

"Just... Speaking from personal experience, but a partner shouldn't be making you feel small and inferior. Why did he take your phone, anyways?"

"He said he needed to _see_ who I've been talking to and to make sure he could trust me. The only reason you didn't get any messages is because he didn't notice that I have Kik installed."

"Why wouldn't he trust you? You seem pretty trustworthy to me."

"It's because of this _stupid_ fucking thing that happened _literally_ five years ago." You really want to throw something, and you're suddenly remembering the time you and Spencer kept throwing a baseball at each other. You need to do that again.

"Can I ask what the thing was, or is that too personal...?"

"I went to a party a few months before I turned fifteen and I got drunk, _really_ drunk. Some guy came onto me and I was too drunk to do anything about it. You can guess what happened. That fucking herb _still_ thinks I cheated on him, even though I've explained it _over and over and over and over--_ I was fucking _raped!_ I didn't _cheat_ on him!"

Dallon puts their food down, and puts their drink into a cupholder before leaning forward and wrapping both arms around you. You hug them back. They give _really_ good hugs, and you haven't been hugged by anyone but Spencer in _months._ You're half expecting the hug to be short, but Dallon just keeps pretty much _holding_ you, and _tight._ They let you cry for as long as you need, which is only about ten minutes, but, _still._ They let you.

Dallon also ends up taking their jacket off, and draping it over your shoulders, and, okay, you don't mind it. Their jacket is pretty much _huge_ on you, and you're swimming, but you slide your arms in, mumbling, "You're not getting this back. I hope you know that."

"It looks better on you anyways." They smile at you.

\---

On your birthday, Dallon comes over and retrieves you, as they'd like to call it. You didn't have any other plans, and they said it was illegal for you to be alone on your birthday, so they come and get you from the apartment you share with your mom, and only tell you where either of you are going once they're already driving. "We're going to Reno."

You snort. "Reno? Why Reno?"

"I don't know, man. I like road trips, I don't want to go alone, it's _your_ birthday, and, like... We can just hang out and shit."

"Fuck, alright, dude. I'm down. It was either this or I sit at home feeling sorry for myself."

\---

You sleep for most of the eight hours that it takes to get to Reno. Dallon turns the heat up a little bit so you can sleep easier, and you use the jacket they gave you as a blanket. They also let you hold their hand sometimes.

\---

You mostly eat whatever Polynesian food your mother makes, because, hey, it's what you grew up with, but next to Mom's cooking, your favorite thing is disgusting, greasy Chinese food in big cities like Reno or Vegas. If you want to make it even better, Chinese food in _casinos._ You feel gross for liking that, but, like... Holy shit.

You would've dragged Dallon to a casino if you're honest, but they're not even eighteen yet, so the two of you have to settle on a Chinese buffet, which is totally fine with you. You get to stuff your face with fried shrimp and chow mein, so you're doing _great._

"I think next to my mom's cooking, gross and greasy Chinese food has to be my favorite," You say around a mouthful of shrimp.

Dallon nods, and swallows their bite of rice before responding. "What's your mom's cooking like?"

"She's Polynesian, so, like... Imagine a Hawaiian restaurant, but better, and also with a lot more rice since rice is cheap and we're kinda poor. I can mimic her cooking style a bit, but, man... Nothing beats Mom."

"I haven't had Hawaiian food before."

"Seriously?" You scoff. "You haven't lived, man."

"My parents are awful, bro. If our family goes out to eat, it's either at a place like this, Golden Corral, Pizza Hut, Olive Garden, or a burger joint."

"That sounds like a sad way of living." You shake your head, and Dallon laughs at you with their stupid laugh that's _so_ fucking cute. Fuck. "I mean, don't get me wrong, I totally fuck with all of those restaurants, but... man."

\---

You don't get home until almost four in the morning. Dallon drops you off at your house, and they're sure to walk you to your door. Before you go inside, you stand up on the tips of your toes, and you take the collar of their button up in your fingers, and tug him down a little bit so you can kiss them on the cheek.

You don't get to sleep, mostly since you have to get ready for work pretty much as soon as you get home, so once you're sitting in your own car, you send Dallon a message, as to not make things awkward. You pass off wanting to kiss them on the cheek as you just being affectionate.

\---

It's a week after your birthday, and you're at Spencer's house. Spencer seems oddly insistent on getting you to go downstairs and to the basement, which means you take an hour making yourself something to eat with the food that's in his kitchen, just to be an ass.

You've got a bowl of macaroni and cheese in your hands as you let him lead you downstairs, and you're in the middle of cramming your fat face full of food when your eyes land on fucking _Dallon,_ who's there with a poster board with Lego blocks glued onto it to say, _'LEGO TO PROM?'_

You accidentally spit your food out from laughing, and you worry for a second before one of Spencer's gross dogs eats it from the floor. (Seriously, how _gross.)_ You have to hand your bowl to Spencer, and after he takes a bite to be an asshole, he sets it somewhere his dogs can't get to, and you stride across the basement to hug Dallon, because, _listen--_ they're fucking _adorable._

Dallon has to peel you off of themselves eventually, just so they can look you in the eye. "I'm serious. Do you wanna go to my senior prom with me?"

"Hell yeah." You kiss them on the nose and hug them again.

\---

_"You are_ not _leaving this house yet."_ Your mom has her hands on her hips and she's glaring at you.

_"Dallon's literally here, Ma. I gotta go."_ You're literally _at_ your door.

_"No. You're inviting that boy inside, and you are letting me get some goddamn pictures."_

Oh, _god._ You forgot that you dropped out and never got to go to prom on your own.

_"You didn't get to go to your own prom, and I want_ pictures." Yep, you were right.

 

**bread:** how would you feel about meeting my mom

**dj:**...why

**bread:** she wont let me leave until you come and let her take pictures of us.

**bread:** i showed her a picture of the lego to prom board and she thought it was adorable. she now wants a picture of us in our suits dsfgb.

**dj:** ya ill. come inside.

 

Your mom has a Polaroid camera, one that you bought her for her birthday last year, since she likes taking pictures, and she... has it shoved in your face pretty much the minute you and Dallon start posing. She motions for the two of you to stand closer, and you awkwardly shuffle a bit closer. Dallon wraps their arm around your shoulders, and you wrap your own arm around their waist, smiling at the camera.

At first, you were a little annoyed, not wanting to have fifteen million freaking pictures taken, but once you're holding a handful of Polaroids, you're... kind of glad you let your mom take pictures. Dallon's driving, and you're in the passenger's seat looking at the pictures. "I'm scanning these and making one of them my background on my phone," You state.

"Send them to me when you do."

\---

Dallon apparently goes to the same high school you went to for, like, a year, and you're just counting your blessings that you don't recognize any of the teachers, and that none of the teachers recognize you. You also don't know any of the students, since everyone's pretty much graduated, at least since you've left.

If you're honest, though, Dallon is such a gentle... person. Not a gentleman. A gentleperson. You even tell them that. "You are such a gentle, uh... Person. Gentleperson. Not a gentleman. A gentleperson."

They start cackling, and nudge you in the arm. The two of you are standing to the side, drinking punch, and chatting. Dallon's pretty much been an angel so far, and has _not_ let you lift a finger, and... it's endearing. You think it's really cute. "Well, Brendon, you are a _very_ handsome boy."

"A handsome boy with a very nice gentleperson." You smile like an idiot. You've probably smiled more tonight than you have in... awhile.

\---

A few people poke fun at Dallon, but they ignore them, and you're sure to glare as fiercely as you can. You're twenty and you make fifteen dollars and twenty five cents an hour. These bitch-ass high school kids are _not_ about to be making fun of _you,_ especially while you're slow dancing with Dallon to old rock ballads. (Their prom was seventies themed, and all of the slow dances were to, y'know, rock ballads.)

Dallon's easily six feet tall, and if you're wearing your stupid hipster boots that you dropped a hundred and fifty bucks on, you're _maybe_ 5'7". It's a little weird to be slow dancing with them. You've... never actually slow danced with anyone before, yet Dallon seems like a goddamn pro.

"Considering I asked you to go to my senior prom with me via a bunch of Lego blocks on card stock... I'm having a pretty good time." They're looking down at you and _holy shit what a dreamboat!_

Dallon is a... very pretty person. You don't know why it's _now_ that it's really hitting you. If you weren't in the gymnasium of a school, you would totally be standing up on the tips of your toes to kiss them. That is literally the only thing stopping you from kissing them right now. "I mean, the Lego blocks were pretty much what set the tone for this. They were a bold but wise choice, young one."

Dallon also has a very beautiful smile. Jesus Christ. You're fucking _screwed._

\---

The backseat of Dallon's car is... surprisingly spacious. They park their car somewhere, and you're half expecting them to try and sleep with you, but... That doesn't happen. _Sure,_ you make out with them, and it's fucking _awesome,_ but when you start an attempt to _escalate_ it, Dallon grabs your hand, shaking their head, mumbling, "Don't wanna have sex with you."

You pull away, and you reach behind yourself to turn the light in their car on, with your eyebrows raised. "Was that not where this was going?"

"Um." Dallon looks somewhat embarrassed. Their cheeks are red and they're just kind of... Well, they look like a deer in the headlights. "Did you think that's where this was going...?"

"Kind of...?" You frown. You've... honestly never made out with someone, then _not_ had it escalate. (You're excluding the occasional make out sessions you have with Spencer. Those don't count.) "I mean... It's prom, and isn't that kind of a rite of passage or something?"

"Uh, I mean... For most people, I suppose so, but... I'm, uh. I'm a virgin, dude, and I'm not, like... really interested in having sex...? At least, not right now. Not that there's anything wrong with you, because, like," They give you a once over, being obvious about checking you out, and they whistle lowly, _"damn,"_ and now they squeeze your hips a bit, and pat one of your thighs, "but... I dunno. Do you want to, anyways?"

You frown, because... "I... honestly don't know if I do. I just kind of expected it to be a thing."

"See? If you don't know, and if you aren't sure, then it's _not_ the right time. Also, I don't want to lose my virginity in the backseat of my shitty car. I want it to be special. We--we aren't even _dating._ It'd be weird if we did that before even being together officially, and not just, like, flirting via Kik." Dallon reaches behind you with one of their long ass arms, and dims the lights a little bit before continuing.

"I mean... Okay, look, I'm wildly attracted to you, and I think you are _very..._ Gorgeous? Hot? Handsome? Beautiful? Pretty, even? I would totally be down to have sex with you, but just... Not in my car, not _now,_ not before we're even together, and, man, if I sleep with _you_ specifically, I also want that to be special as well. You're special to me." Oh.

"Oh." You're... kind of choked up. Just kind of. No one's ever really said anything like that to you. Not even _Ryan,_ and he always used to say romantic shit to you just to get you to forgive him, or to get you to forget that he's such an asshole. Dallon's, like, a _really_ decent person. Jesus. "Alright."

"I didn't offend you, did I?" They reach up and brush your hair out of your face. (Speaking of your hair, you need to get it cut. It's getting a little shaggy and it looks kind of like a bowl cut.) "If I did, I'm sorry. I just..."

"No, no, I'm not offended." You hush him and wave your hands a tiny bit. "I just... I've slept with four people, one of which wasn't of my own volition, and each time there wasn't really much of that, 'are you sure' or 'let's wait' stuff." You reach behind yourself and you turn the light off completely. You feel more comfortable talking when it's dark and you can't completely see their face. You slide off of their lap, and plot down next to them in the back seat.

Dallon lets you get comfortable in the backseat with your head in their lap, your shoes kicked off, and your legs on the seat, bent, since you're barely too tall to lay in the back. "Can we have a deep conversation?" You ask. You don't want to bombard them with shit right off the bat, and since your only relationship experience is based on _Ryan,_ you're kind of afraid of offending them by talking about yourself.

"Sure. That's totally fine." Their fingers are in your hair, and you're holding their other hand, which is resting right below where your chest binder ends.

"Can I talk about sex in general? And, like, what it means to me, or whatever?"

"If that's what you wanna talk about, then yeah. I do think it's something worth talking about."

"Cool. Um." You don't even know where the hell you're going with this, but is that stopping you? Fuck no. "I lost my virginity when I was fourteen. I mean, virginity is a construct and blah blah, but it, like, still has an impact on how I view sex or whatever, because it was with _Spencer,_ and we weren't together and have never been together. Also, most trans people, from my experience, have weird issues with sex, but I... Well, I do, sometimes, but it depends on the situation, and _rarely_ it's because I'm dysphoric or whatever."

You can see Dallon nod.

"Anyways... So, y'know. I was fucking my best friend for a few months, and then Ryan, my ex, kind of came back into my life. I met Ryan when I was in kindergarten and we were friends until middle school, because he ended up going to a different middle school than me. Anyways, we went to the same high school for like a year, and that's irrelevant and all, but _listen._ I'm explaining how I knew him. We just picked up where we left off in fifth grade, and, like... I had sex with him before we even dated. It was in December, I remember that, and it was in Spencer's basement, because Spencer wasn't, like, there, and we both went to Spencer's house since it's a safe space for either of us, or whatever.

"We started dating like a week after that even though we kind of didn't know each other, and... I dunno. Ryan never assaulted me or anything, but he acted like since we were together I was obligated to sleep with him, and anytime I've been _involved_ with someone, even if it's just just Spencer between his girlfriends and boyfriends, I have a tendency to just... throw myself at them or just be readily available. He would guilt trip me into having sex, I guess is how you'd phrase it... I mean I could've said _no,_ but I'm not dwelling on it because I don't even want to think about it more than necessary.

"Um. That party I told you about happened about three months after we started dating, and even after that he didn't, like, let me have a break from, y'know, fucking him, even if I'd end up crying and having a panic attack after. Jesus. That's really sad." You cringe, physically. "I kinda wasn't able to have sex after that, at least not without losing my shit, for at least six months. It's stupid."

"It's not stupid," They tell you.

"Mm, thanks." You mean that, even if it looks sarcastic. "I just... I dunno. We broke up almost exactly a year after we started dating, and I tried killing myself _exactly_ a year after we started dating. Jesus--I didn't even talk to Spencer for like a year after that. I just quit going to school and I only talked to my mom because I was so fucking ashamed. Anyways, I started talking to Spencer again a few months before I turned sixteen, and the first day we were, like, reunited, platonically, we fucked. Like... Let me explain the whole me and Spencer thing--we have sex, but it's not, like... romantic. If I had to explain that specific instance of fucking, it was more or less just an affectionate thing. Like, an _'I missed you, man,'_ sort of thing. I personally don't think sex has to be romantic, but I do kind of think it needs to at least _mean_ something between the two people. Though... There's also casual sex for the sake of getting off, but that's a whole other can of worms.

"And _then_ I fucked my friend Josh when I turned sixteen. He was... nineteen? That sounds really bad, but I don't regret it, it was technically legal because, like, statute of limitations or whatever and also the age of consent here is sixteen anyways."

"I know this is, like, out of place, but Josh as in Dun?"

You... start laughing. "Holy shit. You know him?"

"Uh, _yeah._ Who do you think he goes to when he needs someone to drive to Henderson and take him somewhere in Vegas?"

"Well, I would _assume_ it'd be me, so now I'm offended," You joke. "No, but, anyways, uh... Yeah. That was just kind of a brief experiment and it never lead to anything. We were just hanging out and then we started kissing and it escalated, I guess. That was the only time I've really had casual sex for the sake of getting off. We're still friends, too, which I find only a little odd."

"Well... I think we view sex differently, which is fine. You've... obviously had more experience with it than I have."

"I think you have a valid and totally reasonable standpoint on it, Dal. I think my point is I'm just pretty much used to... _giving it up_ at the drop of a dime. _Everyone_ I've been with sexually--we just _fuck_ a _lot_ and don't talk about it afterwards, and I've never had a discussion about sex, really. I mean, I've spent a lot of nights venting to Spencer, and he listens, but we've never really felt the need to discuss our whole friends with benefits thing. Oh, uh, also... I haven't slept with him since I've met you, by the way. Our whole thing always stops whenever I'm pursuing someone or with someone. That could be translated as whenever I'm talking to Ryan again or whenever I get a new friend that I could potentially develop romantic feelings for."

"I mean, I wasn't... worried about that? We aren't together, like I've mentioned, so you're free to fuck whoever you want, honestly. Though... past tonight, I will most likely be _very_ offended if you do, given the circumstances and vibes I'm getting from you."

"I think it's pretty obvious I like you, bro. Going and fucking someone else while being mutually interested in someone wouldn't make much sense, y'know?"

Dallon nods. "I agree. So, uh... Do you wanna... go either back to my house or your house, and hang out and maybe watch some movies or something...? Just two bros being bros."

You nod and grin up at them. "Hell fucking yeah."

\---

The two of you end up at your home. Your mom's room is across the hall from yours, and when she tells you _no closed doors,_ you laugh, and say, _"Your rooms across from mine, and if we did anything,_ you'd hear. _We're just going to watch movies. Don't worry."_

She shakes her head at you, disapprovingly. She knows you're not the perfect child, but whenever you actually say something that confirms that, you always get the stinkeye.

\---

You cuddle with Dallon, and, honestly, they're fun to cuddle. You've never really cuddled with anyone, at least not like this. Ryan always made _you_ cuddle _him,_ whereas Dallon's cuddling _you._ Your blankets are pulled up to your chin, since you're a little cold, and you have your head and one of your arms on their chest. Dallon has an arm wrapped around your body, his hand resting on your hip in a non-sexual way. Their other hand is holding the hand that you have on their chest, and your other arm is kinda bent weird to where your other hand is under your cheek. It's not really that complicated of a position, even though it takes, like, one hundred and twenty seven words to describe exactly.

Dallon asks if the two of you can watch a TV show they like, and you agree, since you haven't watched any TV shows in a long time. (Your only condition is that it can't be Dexter.) Dallon makes a lot of commentary, and you end up falling asleep to the gentle rumble of their voice deep in their chest.

\---

You wake up at four twenty five, on the dot. (Your alarm used to be set to four twenty, but both your mom and Spencer called you out for it, so you set it to four twenty five.) Dallon wakes up as well, because it's hard to sleep through Deepthroat by Cupcakke.

"I... think that's the most interesting way I've woken up in awhile," Dallon mumbles as you're reaching over them to turn your alarm off.

You snort softly, and kiss their forehead, saying, "I need to get ready for work."

They whine. "Ugh. Why?"

"Because I'm an adult, and I have a fairly nice job that I'd prefer to keep," you respond, kicking the blankets off of yourself. "You can sleep until you need to leave for school, if you want. Spencer's done it enough that my mom probably won't care." You shrug, and Dallon gives you a thumbs up before pulling your blankets up to their head, and sandwiching it between two of your pillows. You smile. Dallon's the most adorable person you've ever met.

\---

"--and then, finally, I walked out of my bedroom, and I thought to myself, _"Dallon is literally the most adorable person I've ever met."_ " You throw a cigarette butt off the balcony outside of Josh's bedroom. You haven't spoken to him in a long time about personal stuff, and you... kind of wanted a fresh opinion, so you've just finished explaining how Dallon's prom night had went. (Not that you don't cherish Spencer's opinion, but something other than, 'Get it in,' would be highly appreciated.)

"Just fuckin' ask them out, man," Josh flicks ashes from his own cigarette, and you get busy lighting another one. "Jesus, you're as bad as Tyler when we met Jenna. 'Josh, she likes us--what do we do?' 'Just fucking ask her if she wants to join our relationship!'" Josh rolls his eyes. "Took his bi ass three months to do it."

"I met Dallon on Kik late last year, and we've only known each other in person for maybe a month and a half, and I didn't even talk to them the month before my birthday because of fucking _Ryan."_

"Spencer told me about what happened with Ryan."

"I figured he did, because I never explained why you got that nasty message from me."

"I mean, I figured it wasn't you anyways, because you don't use capital letters or any punctuation _at all,_ and Ryan apparently types like a prick." Josh shrugs, and pats your back. "Basically, I think you should ask Dallon to be your, uh... Shit. Boyfriend would be misgendering them."

"Partner, lover, or datefriend is probably what I, personally, would call them," You mumble.

"Ask them to be your partner-slash-lover-slash-datefriend. Also, when the hell are you gonna start testosterone?"

You roll your eyes. Josh has been asking you this since you met him four years ago. "One day, probably soon-ish. I mean, I pretty much have the green light from my doctor and my therapist, but I don't know _how_ I'll be able to take it."

"Tyler uses a gel patch. He tried doing shots for awhile, but he kept fainting every time I'd give him one, so we had to find something else."

You groan. "Ugh. I'm not even scared of needles, but I can't give myself a shot, and my mom _hates_ needles so I doubt she'd do it."

"Spencer? Spencer's dad? You said Spencer's dad was into drugs in the seventies. I'm sure he knows how to use a needle."

You scoff and shove Josh. "Oh my _god._ You're horrible!" You're laughing, of course.

"What?" Josh is laughing too. "I was into drugs! I know how to use a needle."

"I can't just drive to Henderson every week and have _you_ do it either. Gas is expensive. I'm also kind of scared to start testosterone. Like, that shit changes your personality."

Josh rolls his eyes. "Barely. The only differences in every trans guy I've met that I've noticed is that they just experience their emotions differently. Like, with Tyler he just... Cries a lot less, I guess. Added... He's also not super-mega depressed like he was before he started testosterone."

"Cries a lot less how?"

"The way he's described it is that instead of having a panic attack and crying for a few hours whenever something bad happens to him he just gets annoyed and a little pissed, then drops it. He's cried a collective eight times in the past three years."

"Fuck. I would _love_ not crying. Also... I know a trans guy who just got _awful_ after he started testosterone. Like, he turned into an even bigger dickhead than he was, and that's saying something. What if that happens to me?"

"Your friend's just a dickhead. Testosterone doesn't turn you into an asshole. If it did, well... I'd be an asshole, because I'm cis, so I got a constant supply of that shit."

"Well... _still."_

"Dude, you had this issue when I bought you a chest binder too. You were afraid it would make everything _real,_ or whatever the hell you meant, but when you actually had it you were over the fucking moon. Bet you ten bucks same things going to happen when you finally start testosterone."

"Don't call me out like this. It's just... It's finally within reach, so... I dunno. Oh, _also,_ I'm not sexually active right now, and I heard that it makes your sex drive amp the fuck up. Does it?"

Josh gives you a smug look, and hums to himself, a stupid little smile on his face.

\---

"I agree with Josh. You need to just ask them out and quit being a wuss about it." Spencer doesn't even _look_ at you. (Probably since he's cooking your breakfast right now, but _still.)_ "You both like each other, and you even told me that they said they'd basically feel as if you were cheating on them if you were to date someone else. To me, it sounds like the two of you are already together."

"They're still in high school, though."

"They turn eighteen next week, and they graduate at the end of May, so don't even try that excuse." Spencer does turn to look at you now, menacingly waving a spatula in your direction. "I can guarantee that Dallon _won't_ say no. Hell, they might even beat you to it!"

\---

You've racked up a few weeks of vacation time, so you use those few weeks to fuck off to Hawaii and ignore everyone you know. (After Dallon's birthday, and after their graduation, of course. You made sure to be there to support them on both of those days.) Your grandparents know you're trans and they've seen you a few times since you came out, and they're... alright with it, surprisingly. They call you Brendon, and sometimes they slip up and use the wrong name or pronouns, but they don't see you every single day, so you're... alright with it.

(They're your mom's parents, by the way. You don't know anything about your dad, really, but your mom said that his family pretty much despises her, and you, by association, mostly since you were born out of wedlock, and also since she's the _dirty Polynesian woman_ who corrupted your _pristine, white, Mormon_ dad. Her words, not yours.)

You're scrolling through your timeline on Twitter when your grandma pokes her head into the backseat and asks, _"Why've you decided to grace us with your presence so suddenly?"_

You... shrug. _"My friends keep bugging me about something, and I figure that if I fuck off to Hawaii for a few weeks, it'll give me time to think."_

She nods, and waits to continue the conversation until either of you can be on her patio.

Your grandma's always been... Chill. Instead of being like your mom and scolding you when you pull out a cigarette, she flicks her fingers, meaning for you to give her one and to light it for her. _"Gee, Nan. Ma wouldn't approve of this,"_ you comment as you're reaching over to light it.

_"To hell with her."_ She waves her hand dismissively. She doesn't mean that, of course, and you laugh a bit. _"Why've you fucked off?"_ She raises her eyebrows and takes a drag of the cigarette, somehow in a sassy manner.

_"There's a person I like."_

_"That's never good."_

_"I mean, they're totally nice, but all of my friends keep pressuring me to ask them out but the last person I dated was... terrible, and I'm just... Eh. I need some time to myself."_

_"If this new person is nice, then why are you holding back? What does your 'awful ex' have to do with it?"_

_"... Nothing, really. It's just that's the only relationship I've ever been in, and now there's this new person who is literally absolutely wonderful, but I'm just... scared, I guess. I don't want them to turn out to be some huge asshole as well."_

_"What are they like?"_

_"Like I said--absolutely wonderful. They asked me to go to their senior prom with them via Lego blocks glued to a giant piece of card stock that said,_ 'LEGO TO PROM.' _They didn't expect me to have sex with them when we were in the back seat of their car making out. They came over while I was having a really bad day and took me to get fast food and let me talk about my problems without asking me any questions beforehand. They've been nothing but kind to me and they give the best hugs, and they're also_ super _interested in me too, and I'm sure I'm being real_ fucking _disappointing to them, but... Ugh."_ You flick ashes into the ash tray on the patio, and you glare at one of the flowers in the yard.

_"Perhaps you should have this discussion with your... friend. Explain what's going on for you. You kids have_ such _communication problems."_ She shakes her head at you.

_"You're right, and although I am aware of that, I just... I dunno. I just think I need a bit of time to myself, time to_ think."

_"Well, I've given you my two cents."_

_"Thanks, Nan. I actually really appreciate it."_

\---

When you're back in Vegas, Spencer's the first one to get on your case. Like, he literally shows up at your and your mother's apartment and asks where the hell you've been.

"Dude, I have a tan. Where the hell do you _think_ I've been?"

"Did you go to _Hawaii?"_

"Yes. I wanted to avoid everyone, because you all got really fucking annoying about Dallon. I needed time to think, and I also needed Nan's two cents."

"Two cents on _what?!"_ Spencer scoffs, like, really harshly. He's helping you hang your clothes up. (You're taking them out of your suitcase, and he's putting them on hangers for you.)

"On what to do. I like Dallon, but the only person I've been romantically involved with was fucking awful, and I... I dunno, man. I'm scared of that happenin' again."

"What did Nan tell you?"

"To talk to them, and to communicate, and I agree with her. I've been talking to them on Kik and on Skype a little bit, but not to anyone else, because all of you just kept pressuring me. Like, if I want to ask them out, then... Well, I'll talk to them, alright? Just... Mind your own business for now. Please." You don't tell Spencer that very often, _at all,_ but when you do, he knows you mean it, so he butts out. Thankfully.

\---

You go to work for a week and on the weekend, you pick Dallon up, and the two of you go to Lake Tahoe together. The car drive there is pretty boring. They sleep most of the time, and you... Well, you drive. The two of you aren't camping or anything, honestly. You just wanted something pretty to look at while the two of you talked your shit out. (Not that they're not pretty, of course.)

"Why are we here?" They ask as they pop their back, blinking groggily at the sun.

You climb onto your car, to where you're sitting on top of the trunk, and you pat the area next to you, meaning for them to sit with you. "I wanted to talk, and I wanted to do it somewhere away from civilization and internet and stuff. Just... No distractions and no excuses, I guess. Also, I don't--I don't mean to corner you."

"Mm, no. It's fine." They yawn, and squeeze your knee. "I'm just tired since I've been asleep for, like, seven hours pretty much."

"Ah. Spencer and Josh kept harassing me about, uh, asking you out, so I fucked off to Hawaii for a few weeks to get my shit together, to think, and to get Nan's two cents."

"What'd Nan say?"

"To talk to you."

"Ah." Dallon adjusts their position. "I just... I personally feel like I made things awkward somehow, and I want things to be how they were, but I also really like you."

"I... honestly thought I was making it awkward. I, um... I mean, I like you a _lot._ You're pretty freaking great. I'm just making this a lot more complicated than it has to be in my head."

"Why's that?"

"The only person I've been romantically involved with was just a giant dick altogether, and I've been kind of scared that you're going to be the same way for some reason, even though I know you're not going to. Even though I know you will _literally_ treat me like a prince. Shit, you already do."

"I've probably sent, _"How do I make Brendon my boyfriend?"_ as a message to Josh and Spencer at least twenty times, by the way," They mumble. _Ugh! They need to quit being so fucking cute!_ "I understand where you're coming from. You don't--you don't have to believe me, but I... I honestly think you're the best thing since sliced bread, and I'm pretty goddamn fond of sliced bread. You're like the Hawaiian rolls that are always around during Thanksgiving. I fucking love those things. And, hey, you're Hawaiian, so it works!"

"Half Polynesian if we're getting technical, but you're right." You're sure to specify.

"Well, still." Dallon nudges you in the arm. "Anyways, point is--I also think you're pretty awesome, and I just--I'm not an asshole, or I at least hope I'm not. Whatever shit your ex did to you--that's on him. I'm not him and I--I'm not gonna fuckin' abuse you, man. I think you deserve the world, and then some."

"We're gonna need to hash out some boundaries if we, uh... start dating." You mutter the last two words, and you can feel the tips of your ears turning pink.

"That's fine. Boundaries are cool. Can I ask what kind of boundaries?"

"Like, not getting pissed at me if I'm not readily available at any time of the day or night, or not getting pissed at me if I'm having an off day and I'm not in the mood fuck, _or_ just not getting mad at me for taking care of myself in general."

"Dude, I already _don't_ get mad at you for that stuff, aside from the fucking part, since we aren't, y'know, fucking. I mean, I don't always answer you right away. Relationships are a mutual effort and it would be _very_ wrong of me to expect you to give all of yourself to me, yet not give much in return." Dallon puts their hand over your hand, and they don't remove it.

"Ryan was, uh, super codependent, and so was I, admittedly."

"Speaking of him, if we, y'know... If we start dating, I do _not_ want you to talk to him. I don't--I don't mean that in some weird possessive way, but I just--I wouldn't be comfortable with it, especially with how you've described your relationship with him. He just comes and goes as he pleases without any concern for you, and that's fucked up."

"That's totally reasonable, and I... I agree. I don't want to talk to him either." You shrug, and you pick at a hole in your jeans. "I probably wouldn't be comfortable with you talking to an ex if you had an ex like him either."

"My only ex ended up being a lesbian, so, like, don't worry about it." They laugh softly, and you crack a half grin.

"Also, Dallon?" You look them in the face now.

They look back at you, head tilted a tiny bit and an eyebrow raised ever so slightly. "Hm?"

"If we date, can we not have some super deep and committed relationship right off the bat? I don't want to just hop in and have us act like we're star crossed lovers like it's some stupid TV show, because that's what happened with Ryan since we were both fourteen and stupid, and, well, look at how that turned out.

"I want to be friends with you, but I also want to hold your hand and kiss you on the cheek to make you blush, and I want to hug you and cuddle with you, but I just--I don't want to be investing so much of myself, emotionally, into this to where it's detrimental to me."

"Dude, I wanna date ya. Not marry you."

You snort and end up laughing your ass off, because, _Jesus,_ they're right. "How about it, then? You wanna just... date, and... see where it goes?"

"Hell--" They kiss your forehead; "--Fucking--" They kiss your nose; "--Yes--" and, finally, they kiss you on the lips.

\---

You take Dallon home around midnight after kissing them a whole bunch since you're super fucking giddy. Once you're in your own room, lying in your bed, you send them a message on Kik.

 

**bread:** what do i call you

**bread:** i feel like boyfriend would be misgendering you

**dj:** it would be yes

**dj:** um. idk

**dj:** datefriend, datemate, sweetheart/sweetie, personfriend, honey/dear, significant other/s.o., maybe cuddlebuddy if ur feeling it

**dj:** (i literally just looked at someones blog)

**bread:** "this is my babe/s.o./personfriend/partner/sweetheart" those are the ones i personally like

**dj:** omg

**dj:** babe. fuck. thats perfect.

**dj:** literally just introduce me as ur babe i love that

**dj:** also can i call you bumble bee???????? ive really been wanting to call you bumble bee since i started having a crush on you like idk i just wanna introduce you to someone and be like "this is my bumble bee hes very important to me"

**bread:** oh my fucking god thats fucking adorable PLEASE call me bumble bee im fucking here for it

**bread:** i cuss a lot when im excited

**dj:** AHHH im so full of affection right now holy shit

**dj:** i REALLY like you

**bread:** hhhhhh fuck now i miss you why did i agree to take you home >:(((

 

\---

Dallon accidentally comes out to their parents and it's... a fucking nightmare. They don't tell their parents that they aren't cis, but they accidentally mention having a boyfriend, and their parents just absolutely flip their shit, meaning you and Spencer wind up at Dallon's house at eight in the evening cramming their clothes and belongings into suitcases, gym bags, and backpacks, then cramming those into the trunk of yours and their car.

\---

You take Spencer home, then Dallon follows you to your apartment complex in their own car. You quietly tell them to grab any bags or whatever with anything valuable. They grab the backpack they used for school, since their laptop and other electronics are in it.

"What about my clothes?"

"Worry about those later, babe." You kiss their cheek. "Just... Let's talk to my mom for now. I'm--I'm probably going to be moving out in a few months anyways, so... You'll be fine, alright? I promise."

They wipe one of their eyes off and just nod. "Alright."

\---

You tell Dallon to go take a shower while you talk to your mom.

_"Look, their parents told them to get out. They have nowhere to go. I'm probably moving out soon anyways, so... can they stay?"_

She does _not_ look impressed with you, but you know she's not going to say no. _"They need to get a job and pitch in."_

_"They have a part time job, and they're going to law school in the fall on a full ride. I'm also building my own career. I mean, I'm making sixteen an hour and I already pay for most of our bills and stuff. I'll pay for them too if I have to."_

She _sighs,_ and you can see her tongue in her cheek. _"Where are they going to law school at?"_

"UNLV. _It's not Harvard or anything, but it's law school and it's free."_

_"I want to have a word with them."_

\---

You play with Dallon's hair while the two of you cuddle, since they ask you to. Your mom agreed to let them stay, on the condition that they help with household chores, and that they provide for themselves. You tell them that you'll help them if they need it, since they're only working part time for minimum wage, and since you're working full time and making two and a half times what they do.

\---

Dallon's work shifts are in the evenings, from five to ten, so on days that they work, you only see them for a few hours in the morning. They also make it a point to not linger around the apartment unless either you're there or if it's necessary, which means they're gone a lot, since you're only home if you're sick, if you need to sleep, or unless you can't be at Spencer's for whatever reason.

That doesn't mean you don't see them, of course. They usually go to Spencer's house, which is also where you usually go, so, _yeah,_ you see them. You do have to start going to Henderson to hang out with Josh more often, though, since you don't want to be around Dallon during every second of your spare time. (It's cool hanging out with them, but there's such a thing as personal space, and they get it. Hell, they're about the same way.)

\---

You have half of your shit packed into boxes, since you're moving in a week, and you and Dallon are sitting on your bed watching a very legally downloaded Avatar: The Last Airbender, when your phone buzzes with a text from an unknown number.

It's _August,_ late August, and you've had a fucking week. Work sucked this week, your mom's been up your ass since she's had a shit week as well, and you're just stressed, so getting a text from an unknown number that says, _"Hey, it's Ryan. Got a new phone. Wondered if you wanted to hang out? I kinda miss you."_ definitely isn't fucking helping.

Your chest tightens up and your hands start feeling cold and clammy. You hand your phone to Dallon, saying, "Can you respond to this and try to tell him to fuck off?"

Dallon raises their eyebrows, reads the message, then says, "Yeah, sure," before they get to typing.

 

**Brendon:** Hi Ryan, this is Brendon's partner, and the answer to that question is no. I do _not_ want you texting him or calling him or vaguely mentioning him on Twitter, or even attempting to contact him in any capacity. He doesn't want you doing this either, so keep his name out of your mouth. Lose this fucking number and eat shit.

 

When you read the message, you start laughing your ass off. You don't know how else to react, because _holy shit._ They pretty much perfectly summed up how you feel about Ryan into a single message. Dallon also blocked Ryan's phone number on your phone.

\---

Your new apartment, the one you're sharing with Dallon, is... pretty cool. It's about the same size as the one you shared with your mom, and both you and Dallon get your own rooms. They say they wouldn't mind sharing a bed with you, but that sometimes they're definitely going to want to sleep alone, and you're pretty much on the same page as them.

\---

"Hey, go with me to my doctor's appointment today." Dallon's on the couch eating from a bowl of chips and watching the news on the TV. They look up at you and ask why. You shift awkwardly back and forth on your feet, because, "Um. I--I might get to start testosterone today. I kinda... I kinda wanted you to be there for it." You shrug and look down at your feet, letting one of them scuff against the carpet in a half hearted kick.

"Are you... are you serious?" Their voice is quiet and they're looking at you with wide eyes. "You're not fucking with me?"

"N-no...? Why would I say that to fuck with you?"

\---

_**Dallon Weekes** uploaded a photo to their timeline._

_"My bumble bee started HRT today and I honestly couldn't be more fucking proud of him. Holy shit. I'm crying in the club."_

 

_**Brendon Urie** uploaded a photo to his timeline._

_"10 minutes on testosterone. Honest to fucking god didn't think I'd live to see this day."_

\---

You have sex with Dallon the day you start testosterone. It's not fucking. If you want to get corny, you'd say it's _love,_ but if anyone asked, you'd just say that it was _nice._ It's slow and sweet and there's slow music on in the background, quiet and romantic.

It's a lot of hushed moans and whispered _'I love you's_ as you ride them into the mattress. Their hands are all over your body, caressing you pretty much, showing affection, and expressing feelings that neither of you have words for.

Afterwards, when you have your face smushed into their chest, and as they're _holding_ you, you ask, "Was that special enough?"

"It was perfect, and I don't regret it at all," they assure you, pecking you on the top of the head.

You sleep soundly that night.

\---

You have to work out how the hell you're going to get your _shots,_ and Josh winds up agreeing to drive himself to Vegas to do them for you, on the condition that you give him fifteen bucks for gas each time. Whenever he can't, Spencer does it, and when Spencer can't, Dallon _tries,_ and, finally, when Dallon tries and fails, your mom does it for you. (Out of everyone you prefer Josh, mostly since he knows how to give someone a fucking shot, and you don't mind coughing up gas money for him.)

None of your fears are realized when it comes to being on testosterone. You're the same person, and you don't really feel any different, aside from the fact that you have a better handle on your emotions, and that your reactions are different than what they were. (Whereas if Ryan tried to talk to you before, you'd reluctantly reply, but now, you just tell him to fuck off and block his number or whatever account he uses to try and contact you, and if necessary, you talk to your attorney buddy, since, for some reason, you know an attorney.)

\---

You've been on testosterone for a month when you start noticing stubble. You don't care that you don't have a shirt or a bra on and you don't care that you're only wearing a pair of briefs as you come running out of the bathroom and into the living room. You don't care that Dallon shields their eyes, because you're yanking their hands away and pressing them to your face, saying, _"Rub."_

They do and immediately smile when they feel it. "Is that fucking stubble?"

You nod with a stupid grin on your face, and they yank you forward and into a kiss.

\---

_**Dallon Weekes** uploaded a photo to their timeline._

_"My bumble bee has stubble!!! <3"_

 

_**Brendon Urie** uploaded a photo to his timeline._

_"GUYS I HAVE STUBBLE IM ACTUALLY QUAKING"_

\---

Three months on testosterone, Dallon has to stop you in the middle of speaking to say, "Say that again, except slower."

So... you do. "... Why did you want me to do that?"

"Your voice. It's--it's _deeper."_ Dallon also likes to call you out every time your voice cracks so they can peck you on the lips or cheek.

\---

After starting HRT, it takes four months for you to see your mom. You've just been  _busy,_ as has she, and she... Well, she cries when she hears you talk and sees what you look like now. She's not sad, you don't think. She's actually over the fucking moon for you. She tells you that she's so  _glad_ that you can be yourself now. She says that you just--you seem more like yourself, more like you  _fit,_ and, alright, the first time you cry after starting testosterone is from that conversation.

\---

After you turn twenty one, you begin the process of legally changing your name and your gender. At this point in time, you've been on testosterone for six-ish months, and you're cis passing, which is fucking _wild_ to you. Dallon's also finished their second semester in law school and you've gotten bumped up to _Head of Human Resources_ at your own job, meaning you're taking home a pretty goddamn decent salary compared to last year.

It takes about four more months, but eventually you are legally and _officially_ Mr. Brendon Urie. You definitely get shitfaced that night in celebration.

\---

You're twenty four when you get top surgery. Dallon's absolutely thrilled for you and they dote on you and take care of you as much as you'll let them. Spencer also pops in once in awhile to check on you and to make sure you aren't pushing yourself.

Once the bandaging and stitches come off, Dallon spends four nights in a row leaving hickeys all over your chest and whispering sweet praise to you and honestly making you feel like a brand new person.

\---

You're twenty six and you're honestly just minding your own business, going over some paperwork for, y'know, work, while you drink your morning coffee one Saturday when Dallon steps into the kitchen of the house either of you had put a down payment on a few months ago, looking suspicious as fuck.

You just squint at them but don't say anything as they go about making themselves a cup of coffee and some toast. You _do_ say something when something's being quickly slid across the table at you. "Dallon, if this isn't a fucking engagement ring, I _will_ kill you."

They just give you a smug little smile and tell you to open the stupid box.

(It was, in fact, an engagement ring.)

 

**Author's Note:**

> fun facts about this fic:
> 
> \- spencer had a homestuck phase even though i didnt explicitly state it  
> \- brendon had a weeb phase  
> \- brendon's favorite anime in this fic is probably junjou romantica because yuri on ice didnt exist during his weeb phase in this fic otherwise itd be yuri on ice  
> \- it took everything in me not to exclude pete from this fic because i wanted brendon to have a fall out boy phase. instead he has an MCR phase. too bad he cant have a p!atd phase tho...  
> \- i dont actually have a problem with ryan ross tbh hes just a quiet dog dad and kinda looks like maxmoefoe honestly dk why people dont point that out more??  
> \- i will fight for nonbinary dallon weekes in fics dont fucking @ me
> 
> anyways hi if u made it to here ur a trooper


End file.
